


Good

by noalinnea



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 14:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noalinnea/pseuds/noalinnea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hugo does something that really doesn't need explaining and Richard discovers he likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is pure fiction. The characters in this story share their names with real people, but the words and events are completely made up. They are not intended to be mistaken for fact, and no libel is intended.

It happens quickly and to Richard's complete surprise.

They are in his trailer during lunch break and there's nothing extraordinary about the situation, they are talking about a book that Hugo has lent him. It's a warm day and Richard is sweating under his wig. He lifts up his hand to scratch his neck underneath Thorin's heavy mane and from where he is leaning against the table next to him Hugo reaches out to comb his fingers through the fake hair and collect it in a makeshift ponytail, wrapping a simple black hair-band around them that he fishes out of his pocket. 

Richard smiles at him when the heat lessens a bit and Hugo just nods but then his hand lingers on Richard's shoulder, and before Richard can think that this maybe is a little odd, Hugo's fingers are brushing over the nape of his neck, the touch light but too distinct to be accidental, and that's definitely odd, _what---?_

And then Hugo shifts and presses his lips to his skin. 

A shiver runs down Richard's spine but other than that he can't move for or a long moment, every nerve ending of his skin suddenly on fire.

"What- what are you doing?" he asks finally, and discovers that he sounds breathless, as if he has run a marathon.

"I thought that was pretty obvious," Hugo says, his voice low, and Richard feels his breath tickle his skin. He closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to form a single coherent thought when Hugo traces the shell of his ear with his lips and Richard breath hitches. _Christ._

He swallows hard. "It's is."

"Good", Hugo says quietly and trails his lips down Richard's neck in a line of torturously soft kisses. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks against his skin in between two kisses.

"No," Richard hears himself answer, his voice hoarse. _No?_

"Good," Hugo repeats. "Because I don't want to stop." 

Richard draws in a shaky breath as a wave of desire washes over him, and then they are both moving, turning towards each other and Hugo's hand wraps around his neck and pulls him close while Richard's fingers twist into his costume, doing the same.

Their lips meet in a kiss that renders them both breathless and achingly hard within seconds. Hugo presses against him, bringing their hips closer together and Richard moans into his mouth, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, his fingers tangling in Elrond's hair.

"Careful," Hugo pants but right then Richard couldn't care less about what costume and make-up might be doing to them later, all he cares about are Hugo's lips on his and the feeling of his arousal pressing against his thigh. 

But suddenly there are footsteps on the gravel outside and Aidan's voice calls for him. Richard swears under his breath when Hugo pulls back but he just smiles and licks his lower lips while he rearranges Elrond's robe.

"Eight o'clock, my place?" he asks quietly, raising one perfectly shaped elven brow and Richard can only nod, trying to calm his breathing.

"And lose that moustache," Hugo adds with a grin before he turns to leave.

***

He spends the rest of the day in feverish anticipation, missing his cues more than once and almost blushing when Peter inquires with genuine concern in his voice if he is alright. _Damn._

He stops in front of Hugo's door for a moment before he rings the bell, trying to calm the nervous flutter in his stomach while he adjusts his too tight pants once more, he's practically been hard since that kiss and fleetingly hopes that his balls haven't turned purple already.

And then Hugo opens the door and smiles at him and beckons for him to come in. He does and his shoulder brushes against Hugo's when he steps past him into the hallway, not really accidentally, if he is being honest. Hugo closes the door behind him and for a long moment they are just standing there, looking at each other. His blood is drumming loudly in his ears and Richard's chest suddenly feels as constricted as his cock.

When Hugo finally speaks his voice is low: "Do you want to talk first or do I get to take you to my bedroom straight away?"

Once more Richard is reduced to just staring at him, and he hopes that he doesn't scrunch up his face disbelievingly. _How can he be so fucking self-confident about this?_

Possibly because his expression doesn't leave much doubt about what he wants, Richard thinks. And neither does the bulge in his trousers. "The latter," he says, hoarsely. _God, yes._

There is a gleam in Hugo's eyes and he purses his lips in appreciation of his answer. "Excellent," he says, and takes a step towards him, then another and another, until Richard is trapped between him and the wall. Their noses are almost touching and they both seem to be holding their breaths for a second before their lips crash together. There's not a trace of hesitation there, just want, unfiltered, need, so raw that it makes Richard's head spin. His arms wrap around Hugo's shoulders and pull him closer and he grinds his hips against him.

"Bedroom," Hugo growls against his lips, and he turns him around and backs him into the right direction while he starts unbuttoning Richard's shirt without breaking the kiss. Richard in turn unceremoniously grips the bottom of Hugo's shirt while he stumbles backwards and drags it upwards, not even bothering with the buttons, desperate to feel Hugo's skin against his own. Hugo disappears underneath the fabric and Richard's back connects with a doorpost but he doesn't care because when Hugo reappears, his fingers go straight for his belt and zipper and a split second later his pants are in a pool around his ankles. He quickly slips out of his shoes and steps out of his pants to find Hugo doing the same and then he's back right there in front of him, pressing against him while his lips find his and his nails rake over his back. Richard trails his fingers through the coarse hair on Hugo chest and then down his abdomen, creeping lower until he is cupping Hugo's erection though his briefs. And it's sure impressive, he thinks, his own cock twitching in response.

Hugo breaks the kiss to look at him, a little breathless but still coherent. "Top or bottom?" he asks with his little peculiar smile, tracing Richard's cheekbone with his thumb and his voice only shakes a little.

 _Bottom_ , Richard thinks. He's been fantasizing about this the whole afternoon, about Hugo on top of him, pinning his wrists to the mattress and slamming into him. But suddenly there's the urge there to wreck this little smile and see Hugo come apart under his thrusts, to witness his stoic, elven composure that he seems to have taken home with him shatter to pieces.

"Top," Richard rasps and Hugo's breath hitches, the "good" turning into a "god", moaned softly, and it's all the encouragement Richard needs. He maneuvers Hugo to the bed and pushes him down, stretching out on top of him and claiming his lips. There's a blur of limbs and at first there's a shuffle that is little awkward still, but neither of them cares, and then Hugo's hand wraps around him and Richard has to bite his lip to prevent himself from coming right then. He doesn't though because Hugo notices and his hand stills, and for a long moment neither of them is moving while they are sharing the same breath, lips resting against each other, before Richard decides to return the favor and Hugo arches into the touch.

They go slow, finding their rhythm and when Richard finally pushes into him it's even better than he has imagined, Hugo throws back his head while he tries to stifle a moan and it takes all his remaining composure to try and draw out the moment and not just rut into him. When Hugo growls at him to fucking move he does though, plunging forwards and two identically loud moans fill the air. Hugo wraps his legs around him and meets every single one of his thrusts halfway, urging him on, a string of dark, dirty words trickling into Richard's ear and although all of his muscles seem to be screaming in protest he doubles his efforts, setting a fierce pace, the sound of their bodies slapping together obscenely loud. 

Hugo comes first, crying out and bucking underneath him and Richard pins him down, fucking him through his violent orgasm with grit teeth before he, too, shatters and collapses on top of Hugo, his breath coming in harsh pants, his ears ringing and little white spot dancing in front of his eyes when he rolls off him.

They are lying there in silence for a long moment, breathless, chests heaving and sinking while they let the cold air of the approaching night cool their flushed skin.

Hugo sighs and wipes the back of his hand over his sweaty brow. "Are you staying for a glass of wine?" he asks quietly, turning his head towards Richard so that he can look at him. There is a smile playing around his lips, much brighter than any he has seen before and Richard matches it easily.

"Definitely", he says.


End file.
